Thoughts
by lishyu
Summary: He dreams. After the whole Assasin/Sorcerous-stabber mess. (Not an original title, but that's what it is.) Novel based, as always.


Disclaimer: The usual.  
Thanks to everybody who gave me reviews :) These are my first english fics, and I really appreciate it. Seems that not many have read the novel though... :( I don't know where you can get them in english, but if you find it, it is definitely worth spending long hours for.  
  
Takes place sometime around Book 5. May be a little(...) confusing. Keep in mind that these are his thoughts, which accounts for the chaos and general gibberish.  
  
---  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Killiranshelo dreamt.  
  
  
At first, there was Darkness.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He stood, blinded.  
  
Unnerved, he reached out. A light. A laughter.  
Azalea shot him a mock spell, then faded away, laughing.  
  
He smiled.  
¡°Azalea! Make sure you come back for class! I¡¯ll get told off if you don¡¯t!¡±  
¡°Oh Killiranshelo, that¡¯s no way to talk to your sister! You will of course take the punishment for me?¡±  
¡°Azalea, you know Master won¡¯t buy that¡¦¡±  
  
But she was already gone. Sighing, but still a smile on his boyish face, he sat down. There was still time before the memories fade away. Time stood still, darkness flowed restlessly.  
  
  
Azalea.  
  
  
His sister, his love, his mother, his family, his role model, his goddess, his¡¦ everything.  
  
He smiled again. He was so happy. A family. Someone he belonged to. Someone to love.  
  
  
Love. Such a stale word. Azalea and he couldn¡¯t be described with such words. Their relationship seemed¡¦ soiled with such ordinary, stale words.  
  
He frowned. The sky swirled, disapproving. Stretching his legs out, he lied down onto the soft grass. He could no longer see his crumpled robes.  
His red headband ticked his neck. The smile disappeared, wiped clean off his worn face, as did so many other things. Time, hunger and poverty did that to people.  
  
  
He wondered if he did love Azalea, in that way, as everyone assumed.  
  
  
He has been with her, together, for as long as he could remember. What few years of childhood he could salvage was filled with her. She held his hand as they first walked through those suffocating gates of the Tower. They studied under the same teacher. He died with her. He was reborn to find her again. To save her.  
She was his life.  
  
The realization did not strike him cold. The rain did fall however. Cold, unforgiving, but he didn¡¯t care.  
There was still time.  
She would come back.  
  
She was the only constant thing in his ever-changing life. She was his pivotal point, his only guide that he could rely on. She was strong, always strong. Strong enough for him to rely on. She made him complete, just by being there. Simply existing.  
  
Love. He guessed that it could be considered as the ultimate form of love.  
He loved who she was. Her confidence, arrogance, selfishness¡¦ it was just who she was.   
She always held that highest position in his heart, his existence. She was his heart, and she damn well knew it. He knew that he didn¡¯t hold the same position in her heart. He would always be the second-in-line, next to Azalea herself. He also knew that that couldn¡¯t be helped. Even though he couldn¡¯t live without her, she would most probably be able to.  
It seemed unfair, but then again nothing in life ever was.  
  
  
¡°Are you still here? Killiranshelo.¡±  
The slim figure asked, one hand carelessly resting on her hip.  
  
  
¡°Yeah. I have to wait for Azalea, Tish.¡±  
  
  
¡°But she left. She¡¯s grown up now. Left the nest. They all left.¡±  
  
  
¡°You haven¡¯t left, Tish.¡±  
  
  
¡°I know. That¡¯s because I waited for you. I always wait for you, don¡¯t I?¡±  
  
  
¡°You always leave me searching.¡±  
  
  
A clear, musical laugh rang through the void. The suffocating haze seemed to clear up a bit at her laugh. He willed her to laugh again.  
¡°Yes, there was that, wasn¡¯t it? But you had to see the look on your face, Killiranshelo. You were so cute!¡±  
  
  
¡°Did Azalea think that too?¡±  
  
  
¡°Why do you think she played pranks on you the whole time?¡±  
A laugh.  
  
  
¡°Did Azalea like me too?¡±  
  
  
¡°Why do you think I fight with her so much?¡±  
A snicker.  
  
  
¡°Did Azalea love me too?¡±  
  
  
¡°It¡¯s always her, isn¡¯t it?¡± Her eyes glared, hatred in her fists. ¡°It¡¯s always her. I¡¯m your big sister too. Why can¡¯t you love me? Why can¡¯t you come back?¡±  
  
  
He would never, ever, ever be able to make any another person come before Azalea. He accepted that. Even if he ends up loving, marrying any other person, Azalea would always come before her.  
  
It wasn¡¯t love. No, love couldn¡¯t do that. Desire, passion¡¦ no. These couldn¡¯t be it. The funny thing was though, he couldn¡¯t figure out what else it could be. How did one define his and Azalea¡¯s relationship? What did he want? What did she want? What mattered?  
  
He knew that he couldn¡¯t lose her. Not anymore. He couldn¡¯t bare that.  
  
  
And it hurt. It hurt so much. Azalea had gone. Walked off, out of his life.  
He never wanted to see her back on him again.  
She ripped herself, her existence from his life, dragging the torn flesh away with herself, walking far, far away. Hugging all that hurt by herself, ignoring them.  
But the wound was too deep. He couldn¡¯t patch up.  
  
What was taken away was a whole lot bigger than what was left.  
  
  
He wished he were ten again.  
  
  
  
  
¡°Are you even listening Killiranshelo?¡±  
  
He blinked. Eyes wide, with boyish surprise.  
¡°Huh?¡±  
¡°I said, have you been listening to a word I said?¡± The irritated red head tapped his fingers on the desk. At a quickly murmured apology, Hartia¡¯s expression softened.  
¡°Well, as I¡¯ve been saying, I think that I¡¯ve finally found an angel. You won¡¯t believe her eyes. It¡¯s like¡¦ wow! Have you ever seen a blue bonefire? Its like they spit little blue flames every time she looks my way¡¦¡±  
¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve seen those. Master taught me last week. Do you wanna see?  
Warewa¡¦¡±  
Hartia¡¯s clenched knuckles hit him hard on the head.  
¡°You will never make a good boyfriend.¡±  
  
  
  
Nothing seemed so complicated then. Tower was his home. Azalea was his sister. Tish was the second sister. Portea was the older-brother. Hartia was his best friend. Komikron was the friend he constantly fought with. Korgon¡¦ well, nobody knew what to make of him. And Childman¡¦ he was like a father he never had. What went wrong?  
  
Everybody had sensed it, to some extent, he guessed. There was always that underlying tension - but it was ignored, like so many other things. They knew the risks of staying in the tower. They knew the obligations, the unspoken rules - they just didn¡¯t care. He just never realized how they¡¯d affect him.  
  
  
His family was just an illusion. From the start to the end, he only had Azalea. She was the only one.  
  
  
  
  
- And she was slipping through his fingers¡¦  
  
  
  
  
  
No. He couldn¡¯t lose her.  
He won¡¯t let her get away. He won¡¯t lose again.  
  
  
¡¦going around in circles, again. Then again, he always was, when it concerned Azalea. He loved her, but could never understand her. Destiny, he guessed.  
¡¦there was that subject again. Love.  
He did love her, he decided. What kind of love? He couldn¡¯t even guess. The many kinds of love baffled him. He loved her. That was all he could do, in the end.  
  
  
He lifted his head from his cuddled position on the sand.  
  
  
Maybe not in a romantic sort of a way - but more as part of his existence, his life, part of whom he is.  
One could not know him without knowing Azalea first.  
  
  
That¡¯s where people usually get wrong, he observed. They either looked at Killiranshelo and ignored Orphen, or only saw Orphen and ignored Killiranshelo. Worse, they¡¯d ignore Azalea¡¯s meaning altogether or try to diminish it - setting ¡®him¡¯ apart from her.  
Of course they won¡¯t understand. They couldn¡¯t even see him as a whole.  
  
  
  
¡°But you won¡¯t even let us try, Master.¡±  
  
  
Majic looked concerned.  
  
  
¡°Why won¡¯t you tell us more about yourself?¡±  
  
  
¡°I told you about Killiranshelo.¡±  
  
  
¡°You aren¡¯t Killiranshelo Orphen. You¡¯re Orphen. Always Orphen.¡±  
  
  
Cleo crossed her arms and emphasized that word. Orphen.  
  
He frowned.  
  
  
¡°No I¡¯m not. I¡¯m both.¡±  
  
  
¡°That Killi.. whatever is just a name too hard to pronounce. Its just a fleeting past, waiting to be blown away. Why can¡¯t you live for the future? If the past troubles you so much, why don¡¯t you just forget?¡±  
  
  
¡°Azalea¡¯s still here. She connects Killiranshelo and Orphen together.¡±  
  
  
¡°Forget about Azalea. Live for the present. Why can¡¯t you live?¡±  
  
  
  
Because that¡¯s not me.  
To rip away the past. To rip away Azalea. That would be like erasing away everything off a tree but the leaves.  
He could laugh at the irony. He named himself Orphen and erased his past, in search of Azalea.  
But Azalea was his past.  
  
  
Blood red maple leaves floated past his face.  
  
  
But they kept coming back. There were still many who called him ¡®Killiranshelo¡¯. He couldn¡¯t ignore them. Just as he couldn¡¯t ignore those who called him ¡®Orphen¡¯.  
But neither understood. Neither cared.  
  
  
He was an Orphen.  
The only one who understood was Azalea¡¦ but she walked away.  
Out of reach.  
  
  
  
  
He mourned, burying his head in his knees.  
  
  
  
Blinding whiteness consumed him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Orphen slept.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
--- 


End file.
